The Illusionists Daughter
by Erik'sInkWell
Summary: When Christine Daae travels to Coney Island with Raoul and their daughter Lottie, Christine discovers that her daughter has an unusual gift. So does Erik. But is there more to the child than meets the eye? Rubbish summary I know, but if you enjoyed my other stories then you'll like this one too.
1. Chapter 1

Xx~Prologue~xX

Christine led Charlotte down the stairs.  
"Now...Don't be afraid of him, remember what I told you." she said, turning her daughter to face her.  
Charlotte nodded her little head, her dark brown locks covered her cheeks.  
"Good girl, come along now," she chirped, taking Charlotte's hand and leading her further down the darkened corridor.  
"Erik?"  
The composer stood at the far end of the corridor, in the shadows.  
"What is it you want this time Christine Daae?" he questioned, stepping into the light.  
He noticed the child then, hiding behind Christine's dress.  
"What did I tell you Lottie?" whispered Christine.  
The child gazed up at her mother.  
"But mamma-"  
"She can play. And I mean /play/. Like I've never known a child play before." Christine called out into the darkness.  
Erik appeared behind them.  
"I don't teach, Christine, you know that."  
"You taught me."  
"You were different."  
"And so is she."  
"No."  
"Won't you even listen to her?" begged Christine, pulling at his cape before the child stroked the piano keys lightly and started to play a tune from one of her music boxes.  
"Where did she learn that-?" he hissed, grabbing Christine's wrist.  
"Learn what?" stammered Christine, alarmed.  
"/That/. The French time?"  
The child stopped, afraid at the anger in his voice.  
"Nobody taught her she just goes to the piano herself - she copies the music from the old music box I...I..."  
Lottie carried on twinkling out the tune to the masquerade music box.  
Erik's eyes flashed towards the child.  
She gazed back at him curiously. Only then did he notice that she had a lazy left eye.  
He turned back to Christine, a little calmer.  
"There's only two other people who I know can do that, Christine..."  
"Who?"  
"A friend in London."  
"And the other...?"  
The phantom paused and turned to face Christine squarely in the face before he responded.  
"Me..."

A/N  
I have been mulling over this for a while - if you want more, please click the lovely button below and let me know!


	2. Chapter 2

Xx~Chapter 2- A disastrous lesson~xX

**A/N**

**I'm pleased you are enjoying this story. This one is for **_**ChristmasJones**_** for your encouraging review! **

Erik stared across at Charlotte, and in return she eyeballed him right back. Staring the child out seemed a challenging task, even for him. She stood beside the stool, still her eyes fixated on him.

"Well I do not know what I can teach you." he stated.

She didn't respond. Instead she looked absolutely petrified of him now that Christine had left them alone.

'Damn Christine,' he thought silently as he stood and walked over to the child, taking out a scale book from the black cupboard.

"Sit," he commanded.

Obediently she sat at the piano.

Erik opened the book and sighed irritably. Why had she chosen /him/ to teach her?

He had no idea where to start.

He plonked the large dusty book on the stand and opened it.

Charlotte watched him curiously, jumping as the pedal slid from her foots grasp causing a hideous and painful clunk which made Erik cringe.

He sighed and reached across, shoving a pile of manuscript paper under her feet to stop them from swinging about.

"Sit up." he scolded.

Much to his surprise she did, rather efficiently.

"I don't want to see those legs crossed. It is lazy and a bad habit."

She gazed at him sulkily.

"Can you read?"

"Yes."

"Music?"

"No. I play by ear. Mamma said manuscript music isn't needed-"

"Well I am not your mother, I am your teacher, and I say it is needed." he retorted, causing her shoulders to shrink back in a defeated fashion.

"How do you know so much?"

"Because...because..." he shrugged.

How did he know so much? Because he listened, perhaps?

"Enough of your wise cracks, this, is middle C," he started.

"I /know/ what middle C is," she retorted, shooting him a stubborn look.

Erik clenched his jaw at the little brat and gave such a moody glare that the child shuffled away from him on the seat.

"Get back here, now." he ordered.

"You cannot play it from there."

Charlotte refused.

Sighing loudly, Erik went back to his desk, ignoring the child until Christine returned.

Christine returned half an hour later, expecting to hear her daughter playing scales or a sonatina. Instead she was greeted with a frosty silence and found her daughter sulking in one corner, and Erik sulking in the other.

She scoffed a small laugh at the pair in disbelief. Lottie really was her father's daughter.

"Well?"

"She would not do as I asked."

"He was mean," stated Lottie, rushing up to her mother.

Erik glared furiously.

"It's a waste of time," he retorted.

"Go find someone else to teach her."

Christine felt anger bubble up inside her.

"You said it yourself." she muttered through gritted teeth.

"Nobody else teaches children. Not here anyway."

"I will /not/ waste my time when she does not wish to be taught." he said furiously.

Christine gazed at Lottie disappointedly.

"Do you not want to play?"

Lottie scowled angrily at her mother.

"No."

"There, see? She said it herself." he scoffed.

Lottie's face fell.

Christine took Lottie's hand.

"Then I am sorry I wasted your time," she murmured sadly, leading the child away.

"What is with you today? You are so down with yourself," said Raoul, kneeling in front of Charlotte concerned.

"I had a bad piano lesson," she admitted, avoiding looking her papa in the eye.

Raoul looked across at Christine.

"You mean to tell me you actually found her a teacher?" he asked.

"Yes I did. Though it seemed they were both at fault..." she gazed disappointedly at Lottie.

Raoul turned back to her, perching her on his lap.

"I thought you wanted to play?"

She shrugged and snuggled into her papa's coat moodily.

Christine and Raoul exchanged glances with one another.

"Perhaps you aren't ready yet," said Raoul gently.

XxxX

Lottie had been playing outside with her ball when she heard a violin being played.

She loved the sound of it and decided to follow, wondering who could be playing such a beautiful melody.

Upon her discovery, she found out that it was only her teacher.

She shrank at the step and watched quietly, peeking through the iron railing as she watched him play.

"So today you want to learn?" he questioned, spinning to face her.

Charlotte gasped and jumped back.

"Well come here, I cannot teach you down there."

She obediently went to him and gazed up at the instrument that had made such a beautiful sound.

"Do you wish to learn?"

She nodded, reaching out for the violin.

He chuckled.

"Not this one. It's too big for you."

She watched him and tilted her head curiously as he disappeared and returned a few moments later with a smaller violin.

"Here."

She carefully took the instrument, unsure of what to do with it and gazed up at Erik for tuition and guidance.

He raised an amused brow and showed her.

"No, in your left hand."

But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn't.

"What hand do you write with?" he asked her.

"My left." she replied.

Erik paused awkwardly. How odd that the child was so much like him in many ways.

"I am surprised they have not feathered and tarred you," he mused.

"Papa taught me to write with my other hand."

Erik pulled a face.

"Yes, that sounds like the vicomte I know," he muttered quietly.

"Alright then," he chirped, kneeling beside her so he could teach her properly.

"Now, you hold the violin like this see? And the bow you have to balance..."

XxxxX

Christine searched for hours trying to find Lottie.

Raoul had taken the horse for fear someone might have kidnapped her leaving Christine to search the main attractions.

"Have you seen a little girl?" she asked.

The woman shook her head.

"Excuse me have you seen a little girl? She has a very distinctive lazy ey-"

The blonde woman turned to Christine.

"Meg?"

"Christine?"

The girls laughed and hugged.

"Oh Meg, I've lost Lottie...Raoul's gone AWOL trying to find her. He's convinced that she's been kidnapped I don't know where t-"

"She's with him." finished Meg.

"What? B-but they hated each other yesterday."

"You should see them now," said Meg pointedly.

The girls walked down the steps and sat quietly, watching Erik teaching Charlotte.

"She's his, isn't she?" asked Meg quietly.

Christine nodded.

"Meg you mustn't tell hi-"

"He already knows in his mind." said Meg.

"He isn't stupid you know."

"I never said he was."

Erik's laughter interrupted their conversation then as Charlotte's bow went skew wiff.

He made her stand in front of the mirror and close her feet in.

"It will take you practice little one but don't burn your energy out all in one go." He chirped.

"But I want to play like you," squeaked Lottie.

"And you shall, in time if you practice and listen." he explained kindly, grinning at the child from under his mask.

Meg and Christine exchanged amused glances.

"Well...that was...interesting." laughed Meg.

Christine nodded and stood.

"Lottie! Come along now darling, its late." she called.

"But mamma we're just getting started." whined Charlotte dramatically.

"Monsieur was just teaching me a waltz!"

"Your father is very worried. You sneaked out again." scolded Christine softly.

"I followed the sound of le violin," she argued.

"Don't go all dramatique on me, madam, home -now." warned Christine.

"Owh," the child pouted, gazing at Erik hopefully.

"Tomorrow, eight o clock I want you here," he started.

Lottie's face lit up as she scurried over to her mother.

"Don't forget the violin," he ordered, picking up the case and handing it to Christine.

"Make sure she practices what I've given her and not some waffy faf she has made up," he muttered dryly.

Christine nodded and took the violin case before leading Charlotte away.

"You're papa will be very disappointed with you," stated Christine as they neared their state room.

Lottie felt afraid as they walked inside. Raoul leapt out of his chair and rushed to the door, relief flooded his face when he saw Lottie beside her mother.

"She went to apologise to her teacher and in return received a lesson," mused Christine.

Half was a lie, of course.

Expecting Raoul to yell, Lottie stood close beside her mother, but Raoul knelt beside her and merely chuckled, pulling her into his grip.

"Next time /tell/ one of us if you go anywhere, alright?"

She nodded, sighing with relief herself and snuggled tiredly into his military jacket.

"I thought she was having piano lessons?" he questioned, gazing at the battered violin case curiously.

"She was, but today when she went she was more fascinated by the violin, so he taught her," explained Christine.

Raoul chuckled and picked the child up, holding her close.

"Well, perhaps we chose the wrong instrument for you."

"No, I still want to learn piano too." she chirped as Raoul sat down and perched her on his lap.

"You can't learn both," he chuckled.

"Yes you can, Monsieur Destler can play lots of Instruments!" she argued.

Raoul laughed and waved his hand at his daughter playfully.

"Alright, alright, if you say so darling."

"I do, I've seen him do it papa!"

"Fine," laughed Raoul, his eyes twinkled as he watched the child scramble down and grab her story book before clambering back up onto his lap.

Shaking his head at her hyperactiveness, he pulled her into a cuddle and decided to read a couple of chapters with the hope that she would fall asleep.

"Once upon a time, in a far off land, there lived a young prince in a shining castle..."


End file.
